Pull over I'm angry, I want a Mars Bar
by MsEH
Summary: Season 3. Quin has returned to school, angry, distant and alone. Who is going to fight through all barriers and help her?


**A/N : Trying to work out writers block in the form of a Glee fic, so lets see where this goes.**

**Disclaimer : I do not own Glee.**

**Chapter 1 : Just a song.**

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><p>"Do you ever feel like a plastic bag.."<p>

Is that how other people feel? Do they feel like plastic bags, or is it that your mind doesn't work like others anymore? Maybe you don't have it in you to feel like an inanimate object, or is it everyone else's minds that don't work correctly?

Clearly if you're feeling like a plastic bag there is something wrong with you, right? Then why is it that everyone else seems to be normal for feeling like that?

You're really putting way too much thought into this. It is after all just a song.

You've been sitting for what seems like a good portion of your day out in the sun. You may still attend school but that doesn't mean you're going to be joining in on the social practice that is lessons. Any sort of scenario where you are required to socialise is best left for those who want the company, or need it. You've certainly never needed the company, it was simply a requirement of your position, the friends, the attitude, persona, opinions and interests. All a requirement to keep you on top. The perfect facade.

But you know what they say? It's lonely at the top.

Your mother once told you the only thing that matters is appearance. If you can appear the most confident person in the room who is to say you're not? That was your mothers ideal, as long as everyone assumed she was living the picturesque life she was happy and maybe she was. For a while. That was until she left your father. He was a strong man. Built a home and a family that anyone would be envious of. The perfect country club wife, well spoken and presented, ever supportive and of course obedient. Two God fearing daughters, model students who exuded the air of perfection.

That was until you decided to break that mould. A pregnancy. No longer 'daddy's little girl' when your tawdry secret came out. Ostracised not only from your family but your community. You were alone. Lost. Everyone always talked. No one ever listened. You hated them for that. You hated yourself for not being able to ask for help, so you simply shut down. Everything you did was done on auto pilot. It felt like you were down the rabbit hole so to speak. Nothing made sense and no matter how hard you tried you just couldn't seem to pull yourself from the murky world you had found yourself in.

That was a lifetime a go. Your baby had gone to a good home, to someone who deserved her, who would ensure she had everything in this world and more and your mother had returned to your life as a free and loving woman. Being pregnant had given you a reason to be. Now the ties had been severed and your reason was once again uncertain.

The next song to grace your ears starts with a lone piano. You know this song. You'd never tell anyone that it was the song you listened to at night, it ceased your continuous inner monologue and allowed you to simply immerse yourself in the song. That voice. It was more the voice then anything. It pulled your mind to a better place, one where you could once again feel something. Something more than disgust and contempt for your life, your home but mostly yourself.

You reach down to the IPod sat beside you and turn the dial, allowing the beautiful voice to drown out the noise the world dared to excrete. Maybe one day you would thank the singer? Majority of everyone you had once called friends had thought you were on a one way street to crazy town, it wasn't a hard conclusion to come to if you were honest with yourself, you felt slightly off the rails in your own mind so if you were to thank one Rachel Berry for having a voice that chased the dark clouds away they'd quickly have you committed. That didn't matter, all that mattered was the song, the voice and if you took the time to work through the troubled waters the girl too.

"Fabray!" You can't help the frown that graces your face. You'd know that voice anywhere, it easily penetrates your serene Rachel Berry bubble. Sometimes it narrates your nightmares. Mocking you as an unseen force chases you down a dark, leaf covered road. _Run, run, run. You call that running? That kid in the wheelchair could get up a flight of stairs quicker than you!_

Too lost in your own head you don't expect the kick to your crossed legs, it ceases all thoughts as they fall from their resting place on the seat a step down and you raise your hand to your eyes to look up towards the culprit.

"Fabray, you deaf or just ignorant?" The sun behind her makes it hard for your eyes to focus. You're not interested in what she has to say. A shrug is all you can muster from your position. Once upon a time a simple look from this woman would have rendered you putty in her hands. You would have performed any task she asked of you. You no longer feared her, but you did admire the woman.

Before you have a chance to form another thought a strong hand grabs you tightly by the arm. Your headphones are pulled from your ears and drop casually to where you had been seated. The next thing to go is the cigarette between your lips. More from shock then anything, you'd forgotten all about it. The smouldering butt drops down through the seats and hits the dirt below, ash scattering everywhere.

You can't help but focus on the deposited ash, it jumps around in the breeze. You always did have a strange fascination with the simplest of things. A flower, a pencil shaving, even a piece of sticky tape on a desk. Your mind has a strange way of focusing on the most abstract of features in the world.

Wait. Is she yelling? Why is she yelling?

Your eyes move lazily to the ice cold blue of the woman who had a firm hold on your arm. How to respond? You could start arguing, that probably wouldn't go to well. It could be slightly funny? No, that would garner a bit too much attention when all you want is to be left to your own devices. An answer would probably be your best bet. What part of the tirade to answer first though?

"..I am so disappointed in you.."

Well who isn't? Your father was disappointed too. So was your mother. Your teachers. Your friends. "I don't care.." The words are out of your mouth and you don't even realise. Were you answering her or answering your continuous internal monologue. You're not sure.

"Principals office Fabray" Your arm is released and it drops limply to your side. Your head lowers too, the ash you were once focussed on is long gone. Now what? The footsteps of your aggressor move further away as you just stand there pathetically.

"Coach Sylvester.. I need help.." It's too late, she's gone and you're once again left on your own.

A sigh.

You slowly drop to your knees and begin to pick up your belongings, while hot tears suddenly prick the corners of your eyes. _I need help._ You had said the words you'd dare not even acknowledge in your own mind. _Help._ Everything was spinning and you angrily wipe your hand across your eyes. You are not weak. You don't need anyone. _Then why are you crying?_ Shut up. You berate yourself as you pick up your bag and harshly wipe away a stray tear. You are not weak. You don't need anyone. Maybe if you tell yourself that enough you'll start to believe it. Your IPod is stuffed haphazardly into your pocket as you make your way down from your perch on the bleachers and walk towards the large school building that contained the Principals office.

"Quin!" Ignore the voice. You've got to get this berating over and done with and go back to your own mind. You keep walking, you don't want to talk to anyone. "Your Ipod..!" You stop, your hand going quickly to your pocket not finding it there your hands fumble on the cord of your headphones as you look around for the voice and the device.

Rachel Berry. She is reaching down to pick up the dropped IPod and you begin to quickly make your way back to her. What song were you listening to when you lost it? _Fuck._ How did you not realise you had dropped it? It's too late. The bile rises in your throat as you watch her pick the IPod up with slender fingers and look at the screen that flashes brightly at the touch. You can't read her face as your steps quicken. Was it her song? She couldn't know the truth, anyone up there wanting to give her a reprieve for once would be great.

"Quin?" Fingers click in front of your face. When had you stopped in front of the brunette? _Shit._ Get it together Fabray, get out of your head long enough to be a functioning member of society. She's looking at you strangely. _Focus!_Words. You need to say something her. Quickly, deny everything and get the hell out of there. Your eyes dart to the IPod and you unconsciously lick your lips not entirely sure what to say.

"I.." Way to vocalise Fabray you can't help but berate and shake your head, remaining mute would have been a better idea. She looks worried now. Say something, do something, anything. Grab the Ipod and run.

"Here" Her voice is quiet and she holds out your dropped IPod to you, eyeing the device warily you take an deep breath and reach a hand out. The moment your fingers touch hit the slightly scratched screen it seems as if the weight of the world is off your shoulders. Owl City. Thank you God.

"Thank you" The shaky answer sounds foreign as you tuck the IPod into your bag as you turn and quickly continue on your way. If you'd have taken a moment to look at the screen properly you would have noticed the song were only a few seconds in, you would have also noticed the confused face of one Rachel Berry watching after you.


End file.
